Coffee and Croissants
by SilverTurtle
Summary: A friendly sparring match between Layla and Gail Kim turns into something more when breakfast gets involved.


**A/N:** This is my response to a challenge issued by the marvelous Lodylodylody; Prompt-Wrestling: Layla, Gail Kim, submission hold, locker room showers.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, that would be slavery and slavery is illegal. Sometimes I hate being a law-abiding citizen.

*****'*****

**COFFEE AND CROISSANTS**

Layla struggled to twist out of Gail Kim's hold on her or even land a blow that would force the other woman's grip to loosen. The petite Canadian had Layla wrapped up tight in a dragon sleeper which was slowly forcing air out of her lungs and wrenching her neck and back while a sharp knee added more pressure to bend the exceptionally limber Layla into a more gruesome shape. It was damned painful and was starting to cramp the muscles in her back and torso in addition to cutting off her air supply.

Layla felt her pulse throbbing in her temples and fought to breathe as the arm around her neck squeezed a little harder and pulled her head back further. If she couldn't get out of this, or if she didn't tap out soon, she'd lose consciousness. As the current Women's Champion passing out in a friendly sparring match was just unacceptable. It would be too embarrassing to survive. She would have to concede her defeat gracefully, though she wasn't happy about it.

She released one of her hands from its dragging hold on Gail's arm and tapped her hand twice against a flexing bicep. Immediately she felt the rush of air as Gail slowly released her and eased her down onto the mat.

"Not bad, crumpet," Gail said, a smirk tugging at her lips as she knelt beside Layla and helped her stretch back into a more normal position, "You lasted longer than I thought you would in that hold."

"Yeah? I guess being flexible helped, then." Layla replied, still trying to catch her breath. "At least until you started trying to split me in half."

Gail laughed and questioned with faux innocence, "But if I did that, who would I have to beat on in training?"

Layla rolled away from her cheerful opponent, groaning as she forced herself to sit up. "I'm sure you'd find someone. The new 'talent' could always use a bit of humbling."

"Gotta make sure the 'old' talent," Gail lightly slapped Layla's thigh, "is still humble, first."

"Wanker," Layla grumbled, trying not to grin and failing.

"You know you love me." Gail stood and offered Layla a hand up. The two slid out of the ring and headed towards the locker rooms and the promise of a warm shower to soothe their aches.

"No," Layla protested teasingly, leaning over to bump Gail's shoulder as they walked, "I love the coffee and croissants you bring for breakfast when we have these matches."

Gail made an expansive gesture with her hands and replied in patented Gail Kim logic, "You know, they always say the way to a person's heart is through their stomach. Love the food," she pointed out while bringing her hands to her chest, "love the bringer of food."

She grinned over at Layla, who rolled her eyes and opened the locker room door to disappear inside instead of making a reply.

Gail followed and out of pure mischief called out, "See? Told you you love me!"

"You're still a wanker!" echoed around the room along with the sound of a shower starting as Layla disrobed and stepped under the spray, hissing at its initial chill and sighing as it warmed.

She heard the curtain of the stall next to her dragged opened and closed again, and the spluttering start of the water as Gail began her own shower, but she drifted away from awareness of these things as she lathered and discovered a pain spiking in her shoulder when she raised her arms. She worked through the pain, completing her ablutions, then turned her back to the spray and let it gently pound the afflicted area hoping the water would bring relief.

Layla didn't know how long she stood there absorbed in the off-beat rhythms of the water droplets gently hammering into her back, but it was long enough for Gail to finish her shower and grow concerned.

"You all right in there?"

Gail's voice slowly pulled Layla out of her trancelike state so she could reply, "Sure. Just have a crick in my shoulder, trying to let the water massage it out."

"Get out here. I'm better than any old showerhead, especially for working out kinks."

Layla wondered if Gail even realized the innuendo she'd just made. She decided she didn't really care as long as the promise of an end to this irritating pain was still in the offing. She turned off the water, wrapped her large fluffy towel around herself, and stepped out from behind the shower curtain to see Gail standing behind a bench and waiting for Layla to take the seat in front of her. Layla obliged and sat, then pulled her wet hair over the shoulder that didn't ache to give Gail better access.

Gail put her hands to work kneading both Layla's shoulders, because if she was going to do one she might as well do both, and coaxing satisfied hums from the relaxed Brit. "Why didn't you say anything about being hurt before?"

"Wasn't feeling it before," Layla said, "Oh, right there. A little harder. Mmmm, perfect. Keep going."

Neither of them heard the locker room door creak as it opened and closed. Nor did they hear the thumping of the approaching pair of shoes. What they did hear was the queried, "What's going on here?" as Michelle McCool emerged around a row of lockers and caught sight of them.

"Her fault," Layla immediately said putting on her very best pout and unleashing it on Michelle, "She put a crick in my shoulder."

Michelle cooed just a little coming closer to pat Layla's head, "Poor baby. That's what you get for going up against the Korean canuck. She's a little crazy."

"Hey!" Gail protested, "Standing right here!"

Michelle smiled winningly at Gail, "Yes, I see you. And I see your hands are still on my girlfriend's shoulders."

Gail may have gulped as she put her hands up a stepped back, "Right, all done. Massage over. Shoulder fixed. Yay!"

Michelle and Layla laughed, knowing it was all just a joke. Layla stood clutching her towel to her chest, "Thank you, Gail. I feel much better."

"Sure, no problem," Gail waved away the thanks, "Same time next week?"

"Of course," Layla returned and was just about to head to her locker when she heard Gail laugh a little.

"See, you can't stay away," Gail teasingly said, "I told you you love me."

"What?" Michelle asked, eyeing Gail up as potential competition.

"It's true, I do," Layla said. Michelle and Gail turned matching shocked expressions to Layla, who innocently said, "What? She fed me."

Michelle dropped her face into her hand, familiar with this line of silliness. Gail was a bit confused and Michelle took pity on her, "Layla loves her food. She's a monster for it. You've fed the beast. Congratulations, you've won a friend for life…or for at least as long as you keep feeding her. She's kind of like a stray dog that way."

"Oi!"

"What, baby? Like you didn't follow my dad around that week we were on vacation just because he gave you a candy bar. Once. Months beforehand."

"Your father is a genuinely interesting person," Layla began, taking in Michelle's incredulous look and Gail's amused one she continued, "Who happens to always carry a small bag of snacks he's occasionally willing to share with his daughter's significant other."

Michelle nodded, satisfied. She turned to Gail as Layla continued to her locker out of their line of vision, "So, what did you feed her?"

"Uh, coffee and croissants."

Michelle nodded and mumbled to herself, "Hmm. That means I'll have to get Layla surprise cheesecake for dessert tonight to top it."

"Wait," Gail asked a little incredulously, "So her affections are really food negotiable?" Not that she seriously had any designs on Layla, but curiosity drove her onward.

Michelle scoffed, "Of course not. Her heart belongs to me, but her stomach will wander. I'm just going to show her that I have the best food anyway, so she needn't let her stomach lead her astray."

Gail was beginning to think the LayCool relationship was a little bizarre, but humored Michelle by patting her shoulder and wishing her luck.

Michelle moved off and was just about to turn the corner when she paused and said, "Hey, Gail?"

"Yeah?"

"For future reference," Michelle's eyes burned into Gail's own for a long moment before breaking away and indicating Layla's general direction, "Don't feed the animal."

Gail's eyebrows rose up without her volition just like the hairs on the back of her neck did, "Right."

Michelle nodded and continued on her way, collecting her girlfriend and sweeping out of the locker room.

Gail collapsed on the bench, her knees suddenly feeling like jelly.

Layla hummed as she thought up ways to persuade Michelle to buy her Thai for dinner.

Next week, Gail didn't bring croissants or coffee.

Layla had already eaten.

**THE END**

*****'*****

**A/N:** And here I was thinking that prompt would end up smut. I don't know whether to be disappointed it's not smut, or proud that my mind somehow avoided the gutter. You tell me.


End file.
